Event Horizon by Steven Konkoly Page B

movement.”
    “Roger that, sir. Did you notice the screens have been removed from the windows?”
    “Good eye, Mr. Brown. They’re ready for action.”
    He panned right to a partial, long view of the back of the colonial-style house. A bulkhead door protruded from the foundation, next to a covered screen porch containing a table and some of that fancy outdoor furniture he saw in his ex-wife’s Pottery Barn catalogue. He couldn’t be certain, but the table looked like it had been abandoned in the middle of a meal—unless they were slobs. Five table settings and what looked to be like the remains of sandwiches. Definitely an open bag of chips. Five was one more than the neighbors reported to be living out here.
    Set back from the house, a red, two-story barn with roof-mounted solar panels materialized between sheets of rain.
    Damn. These people have it all!
    “Looks like we just found our new headquarters. Did you see the solar panels?”
    “Yeah. This looks like a completely self-sustaining operation. The vegetable garden behind the house nearly stretches to the trees. That’s enough square footage to feed several families, and if you squint between rainsqualls, you’ll see that they’re growing a sizeable plot of something way in front of the house. Some kind of grain.”
    “Shit. I might have to keep a few of them alive to tend the crops and keep the boys happy,” he said, finishing his sentence with a barely audible mutter and a grin. “Be a fitting life sentence for these bitches.” He studied the layout for another minute. “What are you thinking in terms of tactics?”
    “Definitely bring in the primary breaching team behind the barn,” Brown said. “They’ll probably have cameras back there and some motion-triggered lights, but at that point it won’t matter. Once we have control of the barn, we can suppress them from the northern tree line,” he said, pointing beyond the vegetable garden, “and move the team right up onto the screened porch and in. Probably keep another team right here. Be easy to suppress those two windows and move a group across once all of the shooting starts on the other side.”
    “Damn. You read my mind, son. Were you Delta Force or something?”
    “3 rd Ranger Battalion, sir.”
    “No shit? 101st Airborne. Screaming Eagles.”
    “Airborne!” they said, pumping fists in the air.
    ***
    “Are you seeing this shit?” said Kate, standing several feet away from the leftmost window, staring through binoculars.
    “Cops, my ass,” muttered Linda.
    “I can’t pick them out of the forest on either screen,” said Samantha, over the handheld, “what are they doing?”
    “Reconnaissance. If they were real cops, they’d ring the doorbell and state their business,” responded Kate.
    “Maybe they want to make sure it’s safe to approach.”
    “They drove up to the gate and pressed the intercom button. I’m pretty sure they would have driven their cruiser right up the driveway. Not exactly the safest approach. Hold on—they’re leaving,” Kate announced. “No way this was legit.”
    “I’d probably be cautious too if no one answered,” stated Samantha.
    “But why leave once you checked the place out?”
    “I guess it doesn’t matter if they’re leaving,” the radio squawked.
    “ If they’re leaving. Let’s verify their departure. They should hit the sensors on the way out.”
    “Got it,” said Samantha.
    Kate let the binoculars hang and grabbed the rifle leaned up against the wall next to the windowsill. She sat on the edge of her in-laws’ bed and wiped the sweat from her face. “So, what now?”
    “How many sandbags did they get filled before lunch?” asked Linda.
    “A little short of two hundred. Moving them into the house slowed down the process. We have enough to make five positions as described in Alex’s diagram, or two of the safe boxes.”
    “I’d almost rather have the firing positions than the bunkers. We can give ourselves full